Page 178 of Under the Bed

He lets me have it, brushing his scruff to my cheek.

Then, since he knows what I need better than I do, he gets up, throwing me over his shoulder. He does everything for me in the shower, loving me under the warm spray.

“My turn.” My tongue darts out, swiping along my bottom lip as I rake my gaze over his body.

Rivulets of water cascade down his lean muscles, highlighting the work of art that’s my stepbrother. His abs are defined, rippling. A light smattering of hair covers the V muscle that leads to his thick cock.

I squeeze soap into my palms, running my hands over the hard planes. Massaging soap into his strong arms. Trailing his veins with my fingertips.

His cock jerks. Thickens. He’s glowering at me.

Watching.

I’ll never get used to it. His attention is the equivalent of two hands burrowing inside my head, seeking information.

I’ll always be addicted to it. I’ll always question what it means.

Now, it means he wants to fuck me against the wall.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

Eventually, the water runs cold and we get out. He dries me off, raking his fingers through my hair until it’s smooth and there are no more knots left.

When I shiver, he helps me into one of his black hoodies and his sweatpants, then pushes a pair of socks onto my feet.

From my place next to the dresser, I look at him as he shrugs on an identical hoodie and sweatpants.

No underwear for either of us. No need for them.

What for? We’ll be inside all day. Maybe even tomorrow.

Maybe until we leave this city for good.

Our underwear will only get in the way.

With that thought, I reach for my phone. I hate that I have to check for missed calls and messages instead of spending every second staring at him. Being present, here, with him.

Sadly, neglecting it will look suspicious. I’ll be called into questioning if I don’t make this go away, so I check the damn thing.

At least no one knows where I am since I’ve turned off the location on my phone.

“You’re frowning.” Kaleb’s there. I didn’t notice him coming closer. He smooths out the frowning lines between my eyebrows. Watching me.

“It’s these texts and emails that I have to get when all I want is to be with you.” There’s understanding in his eyes. This is the only way we can continue playing here in Seattle. Just for a bit longer. Just until it’s time to kill our parents. “Can’t have anyone coming for us.”

“Speaking of.” His lips brush my forehead, a fleeting moment, and then they’re gone. He swipes the PI’s phone, whose coordinates have also been turned off.

He’s texting someone, probably Dad. Who hasn’t contacted me.

No surprise there.

Other people are looking for me, though.

I answer Val’s text.

I’m alive. No, I wasn’t there when they murdered those people on campus. No, I can’t talk right now. My throat is sore. I think I caught something. I won’t be able to make it to Marina’s wake. Sorry.

Then there’s an email from Dad’s assistant.

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